


If I Die Young

by acciothirteen



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Idk what happened, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-02-19 06:30:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2378309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acciothirteen/pseuds/acciothirteen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What is and never could be</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was working at the new chapter of [Shake It Off](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2303543/chapters/5067626) when this happened.  
> I'm sorry.

 

 

 

 

Miro fidgeted with his tie as the car pulled over to the church.

It was full of people, and he saw the familiar faces of his ex-teammates and coaches, all wearing black with grim expression on their faces.

He got out of the car, straightened up his suit and walk into the church.

The first face he saw was Philipp's. The former national captain stood by the doorway and hugged Miro as soon as he was close enough.

"We're waiting for you. We don't want to start without you. That's what he would've wanted," Philipp said as they broke apart.

Miro nodded and muttered a silent thank you.

They walk together side by side, Miro can feel his footsteps getting heavier as he walked towards the end of the isle. Towards the coffin that's holding the person that he loved most.

As he reached the coffin, he closed his eyes and glance at the photo next to it. It was a beautiful photo. It caught him mid-laugh, and he looks so happy and giddy and alive, and Miro can barely breathe.

He closed his eyes again and this time, he look inside the coffin.

Lying there, was the already cold body of one Thomas Müller.

He can feel his heart stopped beating, and his eyes started to fill up.

He took a step closer as he examined the young boy. Thomas looks nice, even elegant. Peaceful. The corner of his lips is slightly turned upward, his signature know-it-all smirk. It used to drive the older man crazy.

He longed to kiss that smirk off his face, and for the younger man to kiss him back passionately, and then when they finally broke off the kiss, they would cuddle on the couch, and Thomas would rest his head on the crook of Miro's neck.

Miro gently lay a hand on Thomas' forehead, stroke the young man's hair for the last time, and shivered as he made contact with the cold skin.

He fished out a silver rosary from his pocket, the one that Thomas gave him for their first Christmas. He remembered how Thomas was hesitant to gave him the gift and he smiled shyly when he saw Miro lift his eyebrow at the messy gift wrapper.

Miro lift the rosary to his lips and gave it a gentle peck. And after one last look of Thomas' face, he put the rosario down on the young man's chest.

"I'll miss you, _kochanie_ ," he whispered softly.

He then turned around to join his friends, his second family on the bench. He sat between Manu and Philipp. He never seen the goalkeeper look so hollow. He patted Manu's shoulder as he took his seat, but the goalie just looked at him with an empty expression.

He took a deep breath as the reverend delivers his speech, about the talented young man who's been taken from them too fast. So much potential. Such a loss.

Miro didn't really pay attention. He was occupied by his phone, the photo of Thomas and himself, grinning widely at him. He replay their last conversation over and over again in his head.

 

"You'll come to our next international game, right?"

"Maybe, Thomas. I still don't know yet."

"Whaaat? But you made a promise, _Opa_. Come on, it's been too long."

"I don't know, maybe if you say the magic word, and then maybe I'll consider it."

He can hear the younger man sighed. "And they say I'm the immature one."

"What's that?"

"Nothing. Fine, _Opa_. I missed you. So much. Every little thing reminds me of you. Remember that coffee shop that you took me on our first date? I went there yesterday and I ordered the god-awful green peppermint tea that you love so much."

Miro laughed. "Alright, alright. I'll promise I'll go."

"Really?" Thomas' tone was much happier than before. "That's great! I already checked for the best Italian restaurants."

" _K_ _ochanie_ , I live in Italy."

"And I don't and I love Italian food. Compromise, Miro."

"That is not a compromise, Thomas."

"Whatever. Look, I have to go, I need to pick up a special package for the trip."

"What special package?"

"You'll see. I love you!"

"I love you more."

Thomas chuckled. "I love you most."

He hung up.

 

* * *

 

The special package, he found out later, was a black velvet box.

Inside, was a ring.

It was a simple silver band, with an engraving inside of it.

"I love you most, _Opa_. -TM"

He wore the ring and never take it off.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. A few people were asking about a sequel.  
> And since I'm nothing but a humble servant to the fandom, here you go.  
> Also, I found [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OFg_Lr0ncdg) and I think it suits the mood for the fic.

"I miss you a lot today."

 

Miro set down the bouquet of roses next to the gravestone. Roses was Thomas' favorite flower - which the older man always finds odd. Thomas had laughed when he told him that. "It reminds me of you," he answered. Miro had smiled then. He kissed the younger man softly, sweet and passionate. When they broke off the kiss, Thomas landed a kiss on the tip of Miro's nose.

 

"I love you,  _Opa._ "

 

Miro took a deep breath.

 

It's been six months since Thomas had passed away. Today was the Germany NT first game after Thomas' death. Everyone was there, and they held a one-minute silence to pay their respects. It feels like a lifetime. He saw a few his former teammates shed a tear afterwards. But as they make their way to their positions on the field, they were determined. They held their heads high. They're going to win this for Thomas.

And indeed they did.

They won 4-0 against Portugal.

It reminded Miro of Thomas' hat-trick in their final World Cup. The celebration was bittersweet. Bastian got Thomas' jersey and held it high on the field. It felt strange, not seeing Thomas run around in the field, doing his silly dance moves, cheering louder than everyone else. It took all of Miro's self-control to not break down right there and then.

 

"You should've seen them play," Miro said. "They were brilliant. Manu is still his usual sweeper-keeper self, which worries me to no end."

He tried to muster a smile, but his tears betrayed him. He fiddled with his ring.

"You should've been there,  _kochanie._ "

 

He pulled his legs to his chest and slowly sobbed.

 

"When I retired, we had a fight, didn't we? You don't want me to leave. You said that I still have a couple of good years left, so why not use it?" He smiled at the memory. "And remember what I said? I said, we're always going to find a way to each other.

"But you left me,  _kochać,_ what am I supposed to do now?"

 

He sighed and look up.

The sun has set, the lights slowly fading and turned into darkness.

It was empty and silent, and for a moment, Miro felt calm.

 

The silence was broken by the sudden ring of his phone. He reached for his pocket and answered it.

"Yeah, Basti? Of course. I'll be there in half an hour."

He pressed the end button and put the device back onto his pocket.

 

"I have to go now,  _kochać,_ " he said softly.

He walked to the gravestone and ran his fingers along Thomas' name.

 

"Happy anniversary. I love you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to be a one-shot damn it.

Manu missed Thomas. He missed how Thomas would joked with him before a game to settle Manu's nerves. He missed how Thomas would start a pointless argument with him when he's bored. He missed how Thomas would do something silly to made everyone laugh at the end of a tough practice session.

 

The last time they saw each other was the day before the accident. They went out for lunch. Thomas sounded anxious when he called him up.

"Hey, Manu. Are you free for lunch?" Thomas immediately said when he picked up. "Sure. The usual place?" he replied. "Yup. Eleven-thirty sounds okay?" Manu smiled. "Alrighty. See you, then."

Manu arrived five minutes early, as usual. Thomas was already there, sitting on their regular booth at the corner. "Well, this is unusual," Manu said as he sat down. "Shut up, duck-face," Thomas retorted. "Ha-ha," Manu said dryly. "Please order something. I'm starving."

Thomas waved and a waiter came by to take their order. When he left, Manu immediately turned to Thomas.

"Alright. What is it?" he asked. "What is what?" Thomas replied nonchalantly. Manu narrowed his eyes. "You sounded anxious on the phone. You're fidgeting with the napkin and you're shaking your legs."

Thomas let out a shaky, nervous laugh. "I, uh, _god_ ," Thomas said. Manu has never seen him this nervous. "I think I'm gonna propose. To Miroslav."

Manu froze for a split-second and then broke into a huge grin. "That sounds amazing! Wow, congratulations!"

Thomas looked like a giant weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "Really? You don't think it's too soon?"

Manu shrugged in response. "You've been together for what, two years?" "And five months," Thomas quickly added. "And five months. No, it's perfect. Don't wait for too long and pull a Basti and Poldi."

"But I want to make sure it's _perfect._ I can't lose him, Manu," the younger man said, his voice trembled with emotion. "Trust me, you won't. He loves you, you know that."

Thomas sighed out in relief and smiled. "Thank you, Manu. I don't know what I'll do without you." Manuel laughed and reached out for the younger man to ruffle his hair. "Crash and burn, probably."

Their food came out after that, effectively stopping their conversation. Thomas paid for their foods afterward, insisting that Manu has helped him enough for the day (and really, it's not like he can't afford it), and hugged the taller man as they said their goodbye.

"I'll let you know how it goes, alright? Thanks so so so much!" he said, grinning widely. "Jeez, alright, Loverboy, just chill." Thomas rolled his eyes. "Ha. I'll call you later. Bye, Manu."

He then turned around and left, Manuel watched him as he crossed the street, shaking his head in amusement.

 

The call never came.

The next morning he woke up by the sound of his phone, he picked it up groggily and mumbled a "what" into his phone.

Half an hour later he sat down in the meeting room in the training facility, covering his face with his hands, refusing to talk to anyone. His chest felt so tight he's afraid it might burst in any second.

"But it can't be, you must be mistaken," Manu said, close to hysterics. "It can't be Thomas, he's-- he's _Thomas_!"

Bastian stood up from his chair, circled the table to where Manu was sitting.

"Manuel," he called with his captain voice. He put his hands on Manu's shoulders. "Manuel, look at me."

Manu removed his hands from his face, where a steady stream of tears are falling down to his cheeks.

"Fips was called to the station, he ID-ed him. It was Thomas. He's-- he's gone."

Manu swatted off Basti's hands from his shoulders.

He stormed off the room and ran to the pitch. He sat on the ground, his back leaning into the goal post, and stared off the distance.

Fips found him an hour later. It felt like an eternity when his captain finally huffed and sat next to him.

"Someone had to tell Miro," Manu said finally. His voice is hoarse and detached from any emotions.

"I'll do that. I just want to make sure you're okay first." Fips' voice sounded tired, defeated. Manu let out a humorless laugh. It sounded as empty as he felt. "I'm not gonna break down or anything. I did that earlier, you can ask Basti."

"Manu--" "No, Philipp, just leave me alone for now, alright? I just need time to...process, I guess." It came out harsher than he intended, but he bit his lower lip and didn't say another word. Fips gave him a solemn nod in response, patting his shoulders before he stood up.

"Jogi's inviting the whole national team tomorrow morning at 10. I'll see you there?" Fips said. Manu nodded and pulled his legs up to his chest.

 

Now, in his apartment in Munich, he watches the snow falling down from his window. Usually, when it's snowing, Thomas would show up unannounced in his doorstep with that ridiculous grin on his face, and dragged him to the nearest cafe that sells hot cocoa. They would talk for hours and hours until the waitress approach them, red-faced, and told them they were closing up the shop.

And that's when he realized, quite belatedly, he's in love with his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! I hope you all have a wonderful time.  
> Comment or whatever, it's late and I didn't even read it properly, so if there's typo or something kindly point them out?  
> Love you guys.


	4. Chapter 4

 

If he were to rate the worst days of his life, the day Thomas passed away could easily be his worst number one through ten.

 

It started with a phone call in a bright Sunday morning, of all days. He picked up the call unassumingly and broke down crying on his kitchen in the span of ten minutes. He drove to the police station in record time, and wondering why the sky is still blue, as bright as Thomas' eyes, when it should be raining thunderstorms. The sky should be pitch black and there shouldn't be any sunlight left because the brightest star of them all is...gone.

He knew what the officer said. The way she said 'something had happened' and won't elaborate further. She's not allowed to tell you that someone had died, so instead she just said that 'something had happened'.

In the thirty minutes that he drove like a maniac to the station, he considered every possibilities, each one more horrifying than the last.

 

He was slightly taken aback at the detective's explanation.

"A hit and run. They tried to save him but it was too late."

A hit and run.

Such an unremarkable death for a remarkable man.

 

He didn't know what to expect, he never really thought about it. But he once said to him, "I don't know, I mean, riding a horse to your death on your way to rescue a damsel in distress sounds like a pretty good way to go." He affectionately told him that he's an idiot, but yes, that sounds kind of cool.

But that was it, he guessed. You can't really choose how you leave this world. Because, in the end, he was just a man.

The detective took him to see his body for ID, even though at this point it's just a formality, because everyone in Germany knew who he is. Was.

 

To see him lying there, stiff, on the steel table was enough to broke a lesser man. But he held himself together. Barely. His hand shook as he touched the cold body.

 

The next few hours he made a dozen phone calls to various people, texting emails to officials, and last but not least, he called his vice-captain.

"Philipp," Bastian greeted with a groggy voice. "Why in the holy hell are you calling me in this godless hour?"

"It's 9 am."

"It's a _Sunday_."

"Something...happened."

He launched into the story, telling him the details that the detective told him.

 

Thomas stayed in the city because he had some stuff to discuss with his agency. He went for a run this morning and, according to witnesses, a car suddenly came out of nowhere. Judging by the way that the car swerved, they assumed it was a drunk driver.

 

"They're still looking at the security tapes from the nearby shop. And I'm still at the station, waiting for some paper works."

 

He didn't hear anything from the other end.

"Basti?"

He hung up.

Philipp counted to ten before his phone rang again.

 

"Tell me it's a joke," he said. "Tell me that Thomas is there with you, pissing himself laughing trying to imagine my facial expression because of that little story that you told me."

"Basti--"

"Tell me he's okay."

"I can't, Bastian, I'm sorry."

He heard a muttered ' _fuck_ ' before the younger man started to sob.

"Basti," he called softly. "I know it's difficult, and I realize that I'm asking too much of you, but I need you to gather up the team. I need you to take care of them. Just until I get there."

He heard a shaky breath before a small ' _okay_ ' was muttered.

"Thank you. Just...hang in there. I'll be over as soon as I can."

 

As soon as he can turned out to be almost two hours later. He drove as fast as he could to the training facility. He checked his reflection in the mirror before he got out of the car. A strange man with empty, hollow eyes looked back instead.

He checked on his teammates, one by one. He walked to the pitch to check on Manu.

 

"Someone had to tell Miroslav."

Philipp gave him what he hoped to be a reassuring smile. "I'll do that."

 

That particular phone call was the worse of them all.

Miro didn't say anything, didn't shout, didn't hung up. He just said a polite thank you for telling him, and that he would be flying in as soon as he can manage.

Philipp wanted him to scream. That would be better than the emptiness of his voice.

 

The national team meeting wasn't much better.

The ones that are in Germany are there since the early hours. The rest came in at different hours throughout the day.

Philipp can't really recall what they said to each other. All he remembered was how the silence pierced his ears without Thomas' usual cheerful laughter.

At the end of the night, he sat down next to Miro while everyone started to fall asleep all around them.

Basti rested his head on the crook of Lukas' neck, as the younger of the two placed a kiss on top of his head. His arm snaked around the captain's waist and whispered something that faintly looked like ' _I love you_ ' to his ear.

Marco was stroking Mario's hair, the motion lulling the younger man to fall asleep on his lap. Philipp watched as the blond's features softened, muttering inaudible words and looked at the younger man as if he was the sun and stars of his life.

"Thank you."

Miro's words snapped him back to reality.

"For what?"

"Taking care of us. Me especially. I know you haven't really had time to grief. Basti told me that you kept yourself busy."

Philipp didn't say anything.

"I--" He sighed after a few moments. "I guess I thought if I don't really think about it, that somehow it didn't happen."

"I kept waiting for him to stormed through that door," Miro confessed. "But he didn't. And I-- I don't know what to do."

Philipp didn't know how to reply to that, so he kept his mouth shut for the rest of the night.

He still visits his grave regularly, a six pack of their favorite beer in hand. He'd tell him about everything, from his thoughts about retiring, Julian's first day at school, and how the team's doing.

"It's...difficult without you there," he said quietly. "We all still miss you very much."

 

Julian turned out to be a footballer. He wears the number 25 for Bayern München and Philipp honestly couldn't be prouder. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

Mario wakes up with a start. It was that fucking nightmare again. God, he wish it would stop. It doesn't happen much often, only when he was ridiculously nervous before a big game.

He glances at the sleeping form next to him, still sound asleep. He smiles and get off of the bed and walk to the balcony. The view still takes his breath away. The city of Munich is aglow, even in this godless hour.

It's almost been two years since they got back together. The only thing that he regret is the incident that lead them to that final step.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Mario was jogging when Basti called him. The phone call took about two minutes. Mario stood there unmoved for five.

When he finally put himself together he hailed the closest cab and told the driver to go as fast as he can to the training grounds.

He was the first to arrive, beside the lawyer and the various executives. He changed his clothes on the locker room and waited.

Someone-- he doesn't remember who exactly-- picked him up and lead him to a meeting room.

 

He was greeted by a tearful hug from Dante and he sat down on one of the empty chairs.

He heard people talking but can't make sense of it in his head.

Because it can't be real.

It didn't made any sense.

 

Thomas Müller can't be dead.

 

And yet--

Manu stormed off and that's probably what snapped him back to reality.

 

"So Thomas is... He's really gone?"

He didn't realized he said this out loud but everyone suddenly looked at him.

"Yeah," Basti answered quietly.

 

When Philipp came an hour later, most of the guys are either talking to their phone in hushed tone, crying, or comforting each other.

Mario was silent as their captain check up on them one by one. He saw how Basti almost broke down when he saw him. Fips just gave him a hug and words of comfort before moving on to other people.

He finally reached Mario and gave him a small, reassuring pat in the back.

 

"How are you feeling?"

"Honestly? I don't know."

"Yeah," Fips said with a resigned smile. "Me too, Kiddo."

 

The rest of the day goes on in a blur. They were briefed on how to act and what to say to the press, if they had to.

His phone rang a couple of times. He didn't pick up any of the calls. He just felt empty and his thoughts wandered off a lot.

 

When he ended up back home--someone dropped him off, he thought it was Lewy but he wasn't sure--he immediately crashed on his bed.

He checked his phones and there were a lot of missed calls and voicemails.

His parents, friends, former teammates, even his agent

and him.

 

He dialed his voicemail and wasn't surprised when the first one was from him.

"Sunny, I've just heard-- _fuck_. Call me back when you get this, okay? I'm worried about you."

That was silly. Why would he be worried? He's okay. He's still alive and breathing. He's all right.

 

He pressed another button.

 

"Sunny, for the love of god, please, please, _please_ , call me back. I'm with the others, we're heading to Munich right now. Call me. Please."

 

He took a deep breath and let his head fell onto the soft pillow. His phone vibrated, and he thought about crooked grins and easy laughs as he fell asleep.

 

His sleep was restless. He woke up every few hours and ended up more tired than before.

He took a warm shower and stayed under it until the water was cold, hoping that it'll washed away the memories from yesterday.

He absentmindedly drove to Jogi's place. Most of his national teammates that are in Germany had already arrived. He grabbed a bottle of beer from the kitchen and sat down next to Jerome. He didn't moved an inch, even when the Dortmund boys arrived.

Jerome stood up to greet the new company but Mario just gripped his bottle tighter and refused to make eye contact with anyone.

 

Someone took Jerome's place on his right. The outline of his tattoos peeked out from his sleeve when he placed a hand on top of Mario's. The younger man turned over his hand so their fingers can intertwine.

The blond's thumb rubbing circles on his hand and for the first time in the last 24 hours he felt content.

He buried his face on his chest as he started to sob.

 

"Sunny, Sunny." His voice is tender and soft, and Mario wondered how he had survived week after week without it.

He gathered the brunet in his arms as he continued to quietly sob, whispering comforting words.

 

"I'm here, Sunny, I'm here."

 

When he finally got himself together, he looked at him in the eyes. Those green eyes had never looked more beautiful, even if it's full of unshed tears.

 

"Hey."

 

Marco smiled and kissed him.

They stayed together, hand in hand, almost for the entire day.

 

Then Miroslav came.

No one really knew what to say, but then Erik stood up and hugged him. The older man looked surprised but he hugged him back tightly. The rest joined in and Miro half-laughed at the weight of everyone on him. They pretended not to notice how the Pole wiped off his tears when they broke apart.

They made conversations. But the room was too quiet without Thomas' distinct laugh or ridiculous jokes. Time and time again, someone would glanced at the door, as if waiting for him to burst in in his usual manner.

But he never came.

They had dinner, and the conversation flew smoother after a couple of glass of wine.

 

Miro slipped out unnoticed to the backyard. Mario hesitated for a moment before following him.

He barely opened the door when he heard the sobs.

It was different than his. Miro's is...it's indescribable, really.

 

Heartbreak. Loss. Longing. Hopeless.

 

He felt a hand on his shoulder before he got the chance to talk to the older man.

 

"Leave him be."

 

It was Poldi. He looked tired and the usual glint in his eyes isn't there.

"People deal with loss in different ways. His is...well. He doesn't like people seeing him like this."

"Thomas was the love of his life, wasn't he?"

"Yeah."

"How do you move past that?"

Lukas considered his answer for a moment before he answered, "I guess in some ways, you don't."

He slung an arm onto his shoulder and led him back to the dining room.

 

 

Marco stayed with him for the entire week. They didn't talk much, but the silence was comfortable. They fell back into their old routine almost effortlessly.

The night before he was scheduled to leave, he made pancakes for dinner.

Mario beamed at the sight of him wearing an apron, pouring syrup on top of the fresh pancakes.

 

"We need to talk."

  
_Ah_. His smile faltered a little, but he shook it off.

"About what?"

"You. Me. Us."

"Hmm?" He raised an eyebrow. "What about us?"

 

Marco hesitated before he took a deep breath.

 

"Sunny, I love you. I don't want to have any regrets. I know we didn't work out, and my timing is shit as always, but I love you."

 

Mario didn't say a thing but instead plopped himself onto the couch.

 

"Thomas' death...it put things into perspectives. I don't-- I don't want to go on and keep wondering about what could have been between us. I've never loved someone like I love you, and I'm pretty sure I never will. I want to give us another chance, and if you'll have me, I want to spend the rest of my days with you."

 

Marco walked over and dropped to his knees.

Mario smiled and leaned in to kiss him.

 

* * *

 

"A penny for your thought?"

 

Mario smiles but doesn't turn around. He feels warm hands sneaking their way into his torso and he leans in to press a kiss on the side of the blond's neck.

 

"Why are you awake?" Marco asks.

"Why are you?"

"The bed's cold without you, Sunny, my personal human heater."

"Well, I'm sure there's some ways we can fix that."

 

Marco laughs wholeheartedly, and he knows he's Sunny, but there's no stars in the entire universe that lights up the way Marco does.

 

"Seriously, though. What are you thinking?"

He traces the tattoo of his name, encircling Marco's right wrist.

 

"Us."

"What about us?"

"How we finally came together. And I was thinking-- maybe we could save a seat for Mülli at the ceremony?"

"And one for the reception too?"

"Yeah, how did you--"

"It's because I love you," Marco says fondly. "And you talk in your sleep, you idiot. You should see a doctor about that. One of these days you'll slip out Guardiola's secret and you'll come crying back to Dortmund."

Mario shrugs.

 

"As long as I'm with you, I think I'll be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so there's that

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for any inaccuracies.  
> Comments and kudos are, as always, greatly appreciated.
> 
> Also, look who's on [twitter](http://twitter.com/acciothirteen) and [tumblr](http://acciothirteen.tumblr.com).  
> Say hi to me?


End file.
